“I’m just not interested,” she told him, not unkindly. When she noticed his quizzical look, she added, “It’s got nothing to do with you personally.”
“Of course not.”
“I’m serious.”
For a few seconds, they regarded each other somberly while they moved together to the music. Colleen felt an increasingly familiar feeling of wanting to move closer to him. Her misguided attraction must have outweighed wisdom somewhat, because she did indeed find herself moving a hairsbreadth closer. When she registered the smoky look that entered his eyes, she knew he’d noticed.
“You’re holding back,” he pronounced suddenly, as if he’d taken a moment to scan her mind with that brilliant brain of his and had just come to a conclusion. “You are cynical about romance, true…but it’s more than that. You do object specifically to me. What is it you don’t like about me?”
Colleen swallowed and glanced blindly at the other couples circling beneath the pumpkin-colored canopy, lanterns glowing around their moving feet. Two weeks ago, she would have had no problem whatsoever giving Eric Reyes a list of reasons why she didn’t like him. Arrogant, stubborn, know-it-all might have topped the list.
But things had changed in the past ten days. After seeing his stellar, compassionate treatment of Brendan, both in the hospital and post-discharge, in addition to spending time with him planning the engagement party, Colleen recognized that while Eric was opinionated, he was by no means unreasonable. He was intelligent and a good listener, too.
He tilted one eyebrow up at her when she didn’t speak, and Colleen found herself growing desperate for something reasonable to say. She certainly couldn’t tell him she didn’t like him because he set her off balance. Colleen was confident, given the parameters of her known world. Eric made her second-guess herself. He made her self-conscious and irritable and…worked up.
“I told you,” she said firmly. “It’s got nothing to do with you. I haven’t dated that much. Not since Darin died.”
He was quiet for a moment. “You’re young, Colleen. Not to mention extremely beautiful. Do you really plan to stay celibate forever?” She blinked and met his stare, set off guard by his solemn tone when he’d called her beautiful. One glance into those compelling eyes and she knew it hadn’t been casual flattery.
“That’s none of your concern,” she said quietly.
“I beg to differ. I’m very concerned about it.”
The music came to an end. Her heart drumming in her ears, Colleen turned and walked toward the patio doors without glancing back. Her skin tingled, as if in protest over the sudden loss of the heat and the pressure of his body.
I’m very concerned about it.
The thought of him murmuring those words caused a slight shudder to go through her. She willed herself to resume the role of hostess, smiling and chatting with guests, forcing the unsettling recollection out of her mind. The back of her neck prickled and she glanced around, only to see Eric’s eyes were on her as he, too, socialized. He smiled as he spoke—a small, secret smile. Too late, she realized she was returning the smile across her crowded family room and had completely lost track of her conversation.
“I know, I thought it was funny, too,” Gail Sossinot said, interrupting her husband Emmett’s story about a ladder that had folded up while he’d been on it doing repairs. Colleen had asked her guest about the bandage he’d been wearing on his wrist. Her cheeks turned warm.
“I’m sorry,” she said contritely. “A sprained wrist isn’t funny. I was…thinking of something else.” Colleen fumbled to apologize for her faux pas. She’d been caught engaging in some unintentional nonverbal flirtation.
It annoyed her that no matter whom she spoke to, or what the topic of conversation was, she was aware of Eric’s every move, as if he possessed some kind of magnetic pull. She doubted anyone would have guessed she was anything but a calm, engaged hostess, but Colleen knew the truth.
Her brain and body were buzzing. She was stirred up after that dance, and it was all Eric’s fault.
An hour or so later, she noticed the party was thinning out. She was satisfied with their efforts. With the exception of Tony Tejada’s bout of jealousy in regard to his ex-wife, everyone seemed to have had a great time, most importantly Natalie and Liam. Perhaps her censorious speech toward Eric while they danced had been effective, because he hadn’t tried to stir the pot in regard to the other acrimonious couple they’d invited to the party. Her friend Ellen Rappoport had settled for shooting venomous stares at her ex-husband from across the crowded room while her ex, Cody, looked contrite and uncomfortable, and made an early exit. Although Natalie had sadly commented to Colleen about the tension between Cody and Ellen, she hadn’t seemed to take the couple’s unhappiness to heart personally.
Colleen spoke with her brother Marc and her mother, took a few drink orders from the remaining guests, and headed to the kitchen.
She walked into a scene of confusion.
Mari and Natalie glanced up at the sound of her entrance. Both looked concerned. For some reason, her brother Liam was crouched on the floor next to someone who sat in one of Colleen’s kitchen chairs—Janice Tejada. She was crying energetically.
“How dare he? Tony never had the time for me and the kids when we were married, but now that the divorce is final, he has the nerve to make a scene at a party because he’s jealous?” Janice exclaimed wetly to Liam. She took one of the tissues Liam offered her and blew her nose. “I’m sorry,” she wailed. “I know I shouldn’t be going on like this at your engagement party—”
“Hey, don’t worry about that,” Liam consoled, and Natalie seconded his words. “What are friends for, if not to support each other during times like this?”
Liam glanced up at Colleen in alarm when, instead of being soothed by their consolations, Janice sobbed even harder. Colleen bustled over to the fridge and took out a can of ginger ale. She poured some of the bubbly liquid into a glass and brought it over to Janice.
“Here, drink this, Janice,” Colleen soothed. Liam looked relieved when Janice sniffed and hiccupped and took the proffered glass. He stood and moved back, seeming glad to cede his role as comforter to his sister. Colleen took his place, pulling up a chair.
She took Janice’s hand in both of her own and patted it while Janice drank her ginger ale. Janice’s crying slowly ebbed, and she looked up at Colleen, misery evident in every aspect of her expression.
“I’ll never understand men,” Janice sniffed.
Colleen nodded in agreement. “You think you